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The Only Reason This Mom Drives Across the Big City

Just last night some of my good friends and I met in the
middle of Los Angeles for a much-needed moms night out. The middle happens to be Hollywood. (Well, technically, Beverly Hills is the middle but east-siders like myself do not do Beverly Hills.)

I left my house
saying, "I'm leaving in five minutes," to which my husband replied with a steady
OK. Five minutes passed and my Uber showed up.

I picked up my fellow east-sider girlfriend in the Uber, and
we patiently (cough) waited for her husband to come home.

Our fellow west side girlfriend was sitting at the bar
chatting up the bartender. That's what happens when moms go out I've noticed.
We are so excited just to chat up people who are out. Especially younger people who
are in "the business." It's interesting to hear if they are going on auditions or
what they are pursuing.

Also, bartenders, generally, happen to be extremely good
looking around here. It is Hollywood afterall.

Our very thin waitress walked us to our table, my girlfriend
jabbed me and eyed her. "We used to be that thin too," I whispered.

The three of us sat down and basically couldn't stop
talking. Food and drinks were ordered and our 4th showed
up. It took her forever to get there (again L.A. = traffic, and she too had a husband
story).

'Amazing how good-looking a crowd can be when you are married and have kids.'

I kept looking around the restaurant and, about an hour in, I
noticed it was getting harder to hear. "This place is packed," I said.

We joked that because we got there so early I had mistakenly
thought it wasn't doing very well anymore. I explained how it used to be an actual hardware store my
husband shopped at back in the day, when there was no Target.

My friend reminded me it had been around for five years. Why
does it seem like every restaurant I think is new has been around for five years?
I know why. That's when I was deep in the fog of having babies. I can't keep up with the new hot restaurants. Although I do
prefer the delicious food L.A. has to offer, so I often pick up a copy of the local city magazine and daydream about trying out all of the new spots.

Since our circles don't completely overlap, we talked about
our husbands and kept marveling at how good everyone looked. One friend noticed a man wearing goggles, as if it was no big
deal. I lifted up my camera to take a photo, and my flash went off. I hid behind
my friend's poncho.

I tried to take a selfie while we waited for a turn in the restroom. After getting us at our best angles, we took in the collective beauty of everyone else.

"Amazing how good-looking a crowd can be when you are
married and have kids," said my friend.

"Yes, why do they all look so good? So many beards and
ponytails," I said.

Like we always do, we wished there was some club in the city that opened at 2 in the afternoon, for moms who would like to dance and go to bed early.

"Oh, please, beards and ponytails were in when we were
younger," countered my friend.

"But everyone seemed sleazy back then," my other friend
said.

"This crowd just looks like a bunch of cute young
people trying really hard to make it."

We walked out of the restaurant,
9:30 p.m. The night was young, but actually late enough for us moms.

A young hipster stopped a woman in our group and
complimented her on the poncho. I held my cardigan closer to me and felt like I
should be saying you kids have fun. It's not that we are significantly older, but we were worlds
apart.

I hailed an Uber and talked like I always do about going
dancing. Like we always do, we wished there was some club in the city that
opened at 2 in the afternoon, for moms who would like to dance and go to bed early.